Beautiful
by Aslan's Lamb
Summary: This is the story of Prince Rillian and how he fell under the Witch's spell.
1. Rillian

"Would you like some help?" my mother asked as she led her horse, Ruby, out of the stable.

"I believe can manage my own horse," I said, leading my horse with one hand and trying to tie my cape around my neck with the other.

"Oh, no, I meant the cape." Mother smiled and shook her head. "It will fall off the moment you start to gallop, if you tie it like this. Here, let me." Her soft hands gently retied the cape. When I was a child, I could never tie my cape right. Whenever I tied it myself, it always fell to the ground if I made the slightest movement with my arms. So I would always run to mother and ask her to tie it. I believe father was slightly offended that I never asked him. He knew thousands of knots, but he always tied it too tightly. Mother had a certain way of tying my cape which was never too tight, yet, it never fell off. The knot always looked like a small star. Now, at seventeen, I looked around cautiously before allowing her to tie my cape.

She laughed. "Don't worry, my prince," she said. "No one will see."

Even now, no one could tie a cape the way she could.

"How do you do it?" I asked.

Her eyes twinkled. "That is my secret."

Soon, all the squires and ladies joined us and we set off. I don't remember what we talked about on the way, but I do remember my mother and I laughing. Yet, more than once, she covered her mouth and yawned.

Finally, I asked. "Were you stargazing again?"

Mother nodded, a faraway look in her eyes. "I was speaking to my father," She said softly.

We found a wonderful glade and ate lunch there, drinking fresh cold water out of the fountain. Then Lady Lyra suggested that we take a walk in the shade. Since, it was hot out in the sun, everyone agreed. But mother said, "Go on, good my friends, go on my son, I believe I shall rest here."

So we spread out our cloaks (at least I didn't have any difficulty taking mine off) and left her. I will never forget how she looked, as lovely as ever with her golden hair and pale blue dress spread out on the green grass. That was the last time I saw her smile.

We walked in the shade for a bit and I picked flowers for all the ladies and some for mother as well, when I heard her cry out. I don't remember running, I only remember suddenly being at her side. Mother was breathing with difficulty, her face pale, as a green serpent slithered into the bushes. I chased after it.

"Monster! Fiend!" I must have brought my sword down on the snake at least 8 times, only to have it strike grass. Perhaps, it was because my hands were shaking so much. Then I dropped the sword. Forget the cursed serpent, I would carry my mother home. I returned to her side. Lady Lyra was trying to get my mother to drink some water, Sir Sorian was washing the bite on her palm. I looked at my mother. Her lips were turning faintly blue. And then I knew it was much too late.

"W-w…"

She was trying to say something. I put my arms around her, gently. I wanted to ask her what she was trying to tell me but I couldn't speak. And then, she grew limp in my arms and I heard Lady Lyra begin to sob hysterically.

They told me later that I had acted nobly, like a prince, that I had carried her home with not as much as a sob. I don't remember. I don't remember any of the journey back. I do remember my father. He took one look at her and then buried his face in her neck, sobbing. He refused to be taken away from her for the next six hours. I did not weep. That night, we announced that the gracious queen was dead and all of Narnia wept.

I did not weep.


	2. Caspian

_On our wedding, she wore a simple white gown.__ It didn't shimmer or sparkle but it didn't need to. It was the loveliest gown in Narnia, just because she wore it. There was a grand feast prepared and all of Narnia was invited. And there was music and dancing and food and beautiful gifts. We didn't eat much. We danced for awhile and then when we got tired, we just sat there looking at each other without speaking. I remember thinking that nobody had ever looked at me like that. She was so beautiful… _

"Your majesty?"

I turned to Lord Sorian, wearily. "Yes, my friend?"

"Your majesty, there was a motherless foal brought to our doors this morning. What are your orders?"

"Do what you like with it," I said, indifferently. Couldn't he see that I wanted to be alone?

"Your majesty, allow me to remind you that when…uh… when the gracious queen was alive, she took care of every motherless creature brought to her."

I stared at him. That too? Strange, I had never noticed how many things my wife did for Narnia until now. And what now? She was gone and Narnia expected me to keep on ruling just the same as always. And all I wanted was to be left alone.

I sighed. "Take the foal to the stable and take good care of him. See if one of the grooms can find him a mother."

Lord Sorian bowed and left. I watched him for a moment. Soon, he would be back with some other question. I couldn't stay up here much longer. Narnia needed me.

"Oh, Aslan, what do I do?" I whispered.

I knew the answer but I didn't like it.

"I can't. I can't keep on ruling Narnia as before. I have neither the will nor the strength."

_I will give you the strength. But the will must come from you._

Yes, yes, he was right. He was always right. I clenched my fists and stood up. Narnia had lost its' queen to tragedy. But Narnia would _not_ lose its' king to grief. I would fight this battle. And I would win it or die in the attempt.

I decided to start by making sure that the foal had found a mother. I walked into the stables. And stopped.

Ruby, my wife's horse, was nuzzling a little black foal. So he had found a mother. Rillian stood there watching them. The expression on his face told me that he would gladly switch places with the foal. I came up to him quietly and put my hand on his shoulder. When he spoke, it was in a voice I barely recognized.

"I must find the serpent and kill it."

"Then go and do so," I said. "Aslan knows, I would do the same if I could. Only…"

I looked into my son's eyes. "Don't let revenge take over your heart and mind. Search for the serpent. But do not forget that you are Prince Rillian and that your first duty is to Narnia and to Aslan."

"My first duty is to avenge my mother's death," he said, coldly.

"Your first duty is to Narnia and to Aslan!" I shouted.

Rillian stepped back, anger in his eyes. I lowered my voice. "The people need you. Narnia needs you. Especially now that-" I could not go on.

This time, Rillian put his hand on my shoulder. "It is a matter of honor," he said.

This time, I smiled. "When I was young, I knew a mouse who considered everything a matter of honor. Although he had more courage than common sense, I was jealous of him. He feared nothing. Nothing at all."

Rillian looked surprised. "You speak of Reepicheep?" he asked. Every Narnian schoolboy had grown up admiring Reepicheep.

I continued, "And then we reached the World's End on the Dawn Treader. And I got the chance to go where no man has ever gone before. To die in the most glorious way of all. Or perhaps not die at all. No one knew. To be the first man alive to sail to Aslan's country! It was a tremendous honor. And I had the courage. But Aslan told me to reign in my courage and remember who I was and who I served." I sighed again. "Reepicheep sailed to the World's End. I stayed behind. I was heartbroken. I think it was only the thought of your mother that helped me sail back home."

Rillian was going to say something, but I put up my hand. I wasn't finished. "Go on your quest. But know that ruling this land, is a worthier quest than any you'll ever go on. And come back. As I said before, the people need you. Narnia needs you."

I cleared my throat. "I need you."


	3. Starlight

The glade looked different now. Perhaps, mother's death had left its' mark there. Or perhaps her death left its' mark on me and I looked at everything differently now. The green of the grass had once seemed beautiful to me. Now it seemed poisonous and unnatural. I wished the grass would turn brown, because seeing the serpent would be much easier. The water of the fountain had once seemed cool and refreshing. Now, it chilled me and made me yearn for something warm. I didn't want to stay a moment longer in this place. I had the desire to do terrible things here, to rip the flowers, cut down the trees, destroy anything that might have attracted us to this fatal spot. I did not. I searched. I went deep into forest. I looked behind every bush and tree. And I returned home, rather angry at myself for being disappointed. Had I really expected the serpent to be there still, three days later?

The next day, Drinian met me by the well at dawn.

"Good morning, fair Prince," he said.

"I doubt there is much good in it but I thank you for your kind greeting," I said, aware that I sounded like a polite marsh-wiggle.

At least, Drinian did not try to convince me that it was a good morning.

"Are you going to join your father today for the meeting with the Owl Parliament?" he asked.

"Today I am going to search for the serpent that killed my mother," I said, flatly.

Drinian frowned. "Are you sure that is wise, your highness?" he asked.

"I am sure it is right," I replied.

I had expected it to be difficult. I had not expected everything to turn against me. It seemed as if whichever way I headed, the wind followed me. Whenever I left my cape at home, it always rained. Whenever I wore it, the sun was so hot on my back that I had to take it off. Where was the land I so loved? It seemed to be treating me rather harshly. More than once I was tempted to stay at home, for I missed father and I missed the quiet joy of serving my people and having them serve me in return. Yet, when I thought of the green serpent quietly crawling out and driving its' poisonous fangs into my mother's arm, I was filled with enough anger to search in just one more place, for just one more day.

It was, I believe, the sixteenth day when I saw the snake. I did not think. I shouted and raised my sword, ready to bring it down when a thought came to me. It was brown. The snake was brown. For a moment, I contemplated killing it anyway, just for belonging to the species I now hated. But while I considered it, the snake slithered into the bushes and it was too late. And then I realized what I was about to do and hurriedly sheathed my sword. Was I really about to destroy an innocent creature out of anger?

"Forgive me, snake," I said quietly. "Forgive me, Aslan," I whispered.

The next morning, Starlight would not budge from the stable. I sent for the physician to examine my horse.

"He has severely injured his hoof, your highness." The short man scratched his chin gravely. "I can't understand how you didn't see it sooner."

Had I seen anything these past few weeks other than a vision of a green serpent that seemed to be just out of reach?

"I will do everything in my power-", I began but the man cut me off.

"Kindly, do not ride your horse to death once he is well again."

I turned to Starlight. His eyes looked at me with quiet accusation.

"Forgive me, Starlight," I whispered.

I seemed to be apologizing quite a lot lately.


	4. Coalblack

_I could see it gliding noiselessly out of the woods and moving closer and closer. I wanted to scream, to warn mother, but I could not make a sound. I tried to reach for my sword but it was too heavy for me to lift. And then the serpent sank its' fangs into my mother's arm. Her face twisted in pain and she cried out. And then I was at her side, bringing my sword down many times but always missing the serpent.__ Always missing. _

I woke up, my heart pounding. The same dream, over and over and over. I stood up, breathing heavily. It was useless to try to sleep. I walked over to my window and looked out. The sun was rising, graceful and golden. Nothing is as beautiful as a Narnian sunrise. Except, perhaps, a Narnian sunset. Mother loved watching the sky. She would watch it for hours. But she wasn't here to see this sunrise. She never would see another. I turned away from the window. Perhaps, If I rode out now…

But I had forgotten. Starlight was injured. Perhaps, another horse…But no other horse would do. Starlight knew me as well as I knew myself. He could guess what I wanted before I even spoke it. Moreover, Starlight was strong. He could ride for days, climb steep hills, swim swift rivers. True, what I had required of him was too much for even Starlight. But even, if I rode less, stopped to drink and graze more often and returned earlier, there was no horse in our stables that would equal the task.

I wandered the castle aimlessly, for the next few days. I did not join my father in his meetings and councils and visits and speeches. I was afraid that if I did, I might lose my resolve and decide to stay. Only a few more days, I told myself, and Starlight will be well again and then I shall resume my search. I drank little. I ate even less. I stayed up all night staring at the stars. My mother used to find comfort in them. Why couldn't I?

Finally, I decided to set out on my quest on Dawn, a young mare. She was a quiet, gentle mare and she wasn't nearly as strong as Starlight. But she could be spared and I would not take a horse that was needed elsewhere. It was a chilly morning, especially for May, so I decided to wear my cape and spent about half an hour trying to tie it on just right. Finally, I stepped outside.

"Rillian!" called father. I turned around. Father was walking from the stables and leading a black stallion.

"For you," father said and smiled, although his smile seemed sad. "He is young, strong and faithful. He will serve you well."

I looked over the horse in wonder. He was beautiful.

"But how did you know I was leaving today?" I asked. I had wished to leave before breakfast and before anyone could notice. I hadn't meant to tell anyone.

Father chuckled. "Well, the cook noticed that you were trying to put together a lunch for yourself last night. She wished to help you but you looked so dark and angry that she didn't dare, so she came to me and asked my permission."

"She was afraid to speak with me?" _Had I really looked so menacing?_

"Oh, I reassured her."

The next few moments, I grew acquainted with the horse. He was perfect.

"I shall call him Coalblack," I said, stroking the horse's silky mane.

"Don't keep him in the Northern Marches from sunrise until sunset. Let him stay here some days. He would be much happier here."

I studied my father's wrinkled face. Was he really speaking of the horse?

"You…you don't wish me to go, do you?" I asked.

Father shook his head. "My fondest wish is that you return to Narnia and take your place in it. This quest does no good to anyone. You seek to destroy the serpent, but you are destroying much more."

"But…but if you don't wish me to go, then, why give me the stallion?" I asked, puzzled.

"I wish you to drop this fruitless quest out of love for Narnia. It started out as a worthy quest and the reason to leave it must be a worthy reason. So, I give you this horse and I also give you the choice, to stay or to go."

"Thank you," I said. I meant so much more with these words. I meant a thousand things at once and couldn't seem to express them so all I said was, "Thank you."

Then, I mounted Coalblack and rode off. I felt a strange sense of hope at starting this journey anew. Perhaps, today I would actually find something. Not the serpent, but maybe a clue, a hint, a sign…


	5. Once More

I returned to the glade, once again.

Why did I keep on going back there, when there was clearly nothing to be found? Had I not seen that wretched place enough? Yet, I went back. I went back and looked at the flowing fountain, the growing grass, the towering trees. They did not care that death had touched them not so long ago. They had seemed changed to me before. Now I saw that they had not changed at all. They were the same and would be the same for hundreds of years. And then, I saw something sparkling in the bright green grass. I stopped and kneeled, then reached over to pick it up. It was a silver bracelet, very simply made. My mother's bracelet.

But how could it be? I had searched here before. How had I failed to notice it? Yet, it was hers, she wore it often. She wore it that day. I gingerly picked off bits of grass from the bracelet. It was dusty and muddied. _No_, I suddenly thought, furiously. My mother's bracelet mustn't look this way. It must sparkle. I carried the bracelet to the brook and lowered it into the water. And then, it slipped through my fingers and disappeared into the murky depths. No! I desperately began to grope in the water, trying to find it but all in vain. And that's when the tears came.

I sat down on the grass and sobbed. I wept for the bracelet, I wept for my father, I wept for myself, and most of all, I wept for my mother. What had she done to deserve such an end? What have any of us done? Why? Why? I stood up and clenched my fists as I shouted into the lonely distance, "Why, Aslan, why?"

Coalblack whinnied, startled by my cry. And then I fell to my knees weeping again. I was not a noble prince on an honorable quest. I was a lost child and I wanted my mother. And anger seared me, anger at the creature of evil who had done this to mother, to me, to all of us. I would find him. I would destroy him.

I don't know how long I wept. But when I looked up, she was there.

She wore a gown of sparkling green that left her creamy white shoulders bare and almost blended into the grass. Her long silky curls, the color of golden honey, fell onto her bare shoulders and down her back. She sat on the grass gracefully, and smiled at me. Her green eyes were laughing, yet, gentle. I looked and looked and couldn't look away.

Finally, she spoke, "Why do you weep, my prince?"

Her question was puzzling. If, she knew I was prince, then she surely should know I had reason to weep. But who was I to judge what she should or should not know?

"I grieve for my mother the queen, oh fair maiden," I said softly. Should I have called her that? She was not simply a "fair maiden". She was so much more.

"It is honorable of you to do so," she responded. "But what befell your queen that caused her to depart with so many years of life ahead of her?"

In short abrupt sentences, I told her of my mother's death. It was the first time I had been able to speak of it. Finally, I said, "I have made a vow."

"And what is your vow?"

"I will not rest until I the serpent lies dead at my feet, pierced by my own sword," I said.

At my sharp tone she drew back, and for a moment, I saw something like fear in her beautiful face. Suddenly, I felt ashamed. What sort of man would say such things to a lady, clearly a great lady?

"Forgive me, madam," I added quickly. "It is not for you to hear of such things."

She surprised me with laughter. Trilling laughter, like the notes of a fawn's flute, the song of the nightingale, and so many other things, I couldn't even begin to describe them.

"I have heard many things far worse," she said. "But let us not speak of that now."

I wondered where she had heard things that were far worse. I wondered where she had come from, although I would not ask. To know, would dissolve the mystery, make her into a mere mortal, not the shining fairy that seemed to come to me in the midst of my sorrow.

Coalblack whinnied, restless. I stood up, then, offered my hand to the lady. She smiled, then, gently took it and stood. Her hand was so warm. And mine was so cold. I realized I was shivering badly. My cape lay on the grass. I picked it up, then, attempted to put it on. And then she spoke, again.

"Here let me," she said softly.

I did not speak. I couldn't. I did not resist her either, and her warm hands gently retied my cape. Then, I took a few steps to the fountain and looked in. There was my reflection, my face looking worn and fearful. And there was my cape, tied around my shoulders with a knot that looked just like a small star.

I whirled around to face her.

"How…" I began.

She laughed again.

"That is my secret."


	6. Wonderful

She seemed to have woken up my desire for normal conversation. We spoke for hours. We realized we both loved the sound of waves being swept about by the wind. We discussed the ways one could whistle (I had never heard a sweeter whistle) and why the wilderness, at times, seemed more wonderful than one's own well-worn gardens. She understood me so well! At times, I found I wasn't sure how to say what I meant and then, she would supply the words I had been looking for. She was warm and wise and witty and winning in every way but she was, oh, so much more! Had she been sent to me by Aslan himself?

I found myself telling her how I had spoken to the stars last night, trying to find comfort in them as mother often had.

"Has a star ever spoken to you or sung you a song from the heavens?" she asked me.

" No," I admitted.

"Did a star ever touch your shoulder or hold your hand?" She asked. Then, with an easy smile, she gently touched my shoulder and ran her hand down my arm, finally letting her hand rest in mine.

I shook my head.

"Has a star ever smiled at you or wept with you at a moment of grief?" she asked seriously, although her eyes were smiling.

"Never."

"Then how do you expect comfort from it?"

I paused. "It can listen to one's troubles," I finally said, wondering why my argument sounded so feeble.

"But how do you know it does, if, it does not respond?" she asked me softly.

"Mother used to say, 'You can't know. You can only believe or not,'" I replied, suddenly feeling rather tired of the whole wretched argument and feeling as if I was really arguing against reason.

She frowned thoughtfully. "Your mother was a wise lady," she said.

"And so are you, madam," I answered, smiling.

We did not speak of serious things any longer. We walked in the shade and I picked her flowers. She told amusing stories of foolish giants and I told her of the Monopods that my father had met during his adventures on the Dawn Treader. We both laughed until we cried.

We spent the whole day together. I wouldn't have been aware of it, if she hadn't pointed at the lengthening shadows and the setting sun. "You should head back, my prince," she said smoothly. "It would not do to have your people worried by your absence."

She read the question in my face. "Do not fear, my prince," she said. "I will be here tomorrow."

Then she kissed Coalblack on the nose and called, "I will wait for you!" as I rode off.

I returned late and avoided speaking to my father that evening. He knew me well and would know right away that something had happened to me, something wonderful. I did not want him to know. Not just yet.

Kneeling by my bed that night, I whispered, "Dear Aslan, thank you for sending her to me." And right before I went to sleep, I had a strange sense that there was something I was missing. Something I had forgotten. What was it? It was not my hatred for the serpent. It was not my grief for my mother. Those two things which had dominated my mind for the past month, they were still there. They were just less forceful somehow. But it was something else…


	7. Thre Most Beautiful Thing Ever Made

It's been nearly a year since I updated this story and I've told myself many times this year that I had no right to start new stories (fanfics or otherwise) when one was still unfinished. So I'm going to try and work on it this summer and my apologies to everybody for the long delay!

* * *

I had only known her for a week, yet it seemed to me that there never was a time when I did not know her or did not think of her continually. She made me forget all that made me unhappy. Each word she spoke brought a smile to my face and my greatest joy was to bring a smile to hers. "I'd like to tell my father about you," I said, one afternoon. I wanted to welcome her into the castle, to make her our honored guest. She smiled rather quickly but her eyes seemed alarmed when she whispered, "No, Rillian, you musn't. Promise me that you won't."

I promised. What else was I to do? And as soon as I did, she threw her bare arms around my neck and whispered, "It isn't time yet," into my ear. She could have whispered anything and it would make no difference to me. Just the feel of her cheek touching mine caused me to tremble and I could think of nothing else.

"Are you cold, my prince?" she asked, laughing. "A lively gallop is sure to warm us. Come Coalblack, I've brought you sugar so be sure to make it a fine gallop."

"You've quite spoiled him," I answered, as I lifted her onto the horse easily. "He will refuse to do anything without sugar soon."

"But provided there _is_ sugar," she said. "He will do anything I ask!"

I mounted Coalblack behind her and we took off. I couldn't help but think that Coalblack was a much stronger horse than Starlight had ever been. He carried us easily, galloping through the woods and probably thinking of sugar. And in the midst of that wild gallop, she turned to me. She leaned closer and closer and finally placed a kiss…on my cheek. Merely, on my cheek. Yet the memory of it did not leave me for the rest of the day.

"Rillian, why do you smile?" Father asked while we dined. Usually, I came home much too late to dine with father, but today father had been occupied for longer than usual. Had I been there to help him…I pushed the guilt away and searched for a way to answer.

"I am imagining how I shall destroy the serpent and come home with a happy and easy heart," I said. I hadn't lied to father since I was nine. But now it came easily. Father and Drinian exchanged a look that was cryptic to me and both frowned but said nothing. I suppose father had asked Drinian to speak to me through that meaningful look because he approached me after dinner.

"Your highness must soon give over seeking the worm. There is no true vengeance on a witless brute as there might be on a man. You weary yourself in vain," Drinian said. He looked so concerned for me that I wished to laugh. I also greatly desired to tell him. It seemed selfish to keep my joy inside and let Drinian believe I was miserable.

"My lord, I have almost forgotten the worm these seven days," I reassured him. His bushy eyebrows went up. "Then why do you ride continually in the Northern woods, my prince?" he asked.

I studied his wrinkle-lined face. I had promised her. I had promised not to tell my father…But I had said nothing about telling friends. Perhaps, if I allowed Drinian to get to know the lady, he would convince her of father's kindness better than I could and then we could introduce her to my father. I made my decision quickly.

"My lord, I have seen there the most beautiful thing that was ever made," I said.

I chose my words carefully. I did not wish to give too much away. Drinian's dark eyebrows went up again. I knew that I had sparked his curiosity.

"Fair Prince," Drinian said. "Of your courtesy, let me ride with you tomorrow that I also may see this fair thing."

This was exactly what I wished for. "With a good will," I said, smiling.


	8. A High Price

"You wish to stop_ here_, my prince?" Drinian asked.

"Here, my lord," I said firmly. I wanted to tell him that even this place where my mother had died was becoming pleasant to me when graced by my lady's presence. I wanted to tell him more, to tell him everything but I stopped myself. He would see her and he would need no explanation.

Although we had brought apples, I could not eat. I wondered how Drinian would react when he saw her, what she would say to him. Drinian spoke of court affairs but I was barely listening. I kept on glancing at the sun, willing it to hurry and move across the sky. And then suddenly I knew she was there; I could sense her presence before I saw her.

I looked up and saw her standing at the north side of the fountain. She extended her hand to me and smiled, her emerald eyes pulling me in. And then Drinian stood up beside me and she saw him. Her lips parted slightly and although she kept smiling, her eyes hardened. And with an abrupt movement, she stepped behind the trees and disappeared.

I was too startled to shout. And I doubted it would do much good. It was too late now. I glanced at Drinian and was shocked to find his hand at his sword-hilt. No wonder she had disappeared!

"You frightened her!" I said.

"I do not think so," he said but I wasn't listening. I was too angry at him and at myself. I had been a fool to bring him without preparing him! I had been a fool to bring him without warning her! I had muddled the whole thing, thinking that their meeting would be magical because _she_ was magical.

I rode home in silence. Several times, Drinian started to speak.

"My prince…" He trailed off.

I remained silent and did not help him along. He had frightened her! It had been partly my fault but he was still the cause of my vexation and I couldn't wait to be rid of his company. When we parted I didn't say good-bye. That night I paced the floor of my room, inventing thousands of graceful speeches I could say to her when I saw her tomorrow. Then I slept for several hours, a difficult, restless type of sleep that left me feeling worse than I had before. It didn't matter. Only she mattered.

She wasn't there. She wasn't by the brook and she wasn't in the shade. She wasn't in the sunlight and she wasn't by the wildflowers. I wished to call her but realized I didn't even know her name.

"Lady!" I cried out. "Lady!"

I heard a smothered sob.

"Please speak to me! I swear by Aslan, I am alone!"

I saw movement flicker at the edge of my vision and turned sharply to my right. There she sat, on the grass, in the shade of the trees (where I was sure she hadn't been before). All the laughter was gone from her eyes. She was weeping miserably but beautiful nevertheless. What had I done?

"Oh, my Prince!" she whispered. "You have ruined everything!"

"Please tell me what I have done and how I may amend it," I said earnestly and took her hand in mine.

"Won't your servant go straight to your father and tell him of me?" And before I could say anything she continued, "He must not tell your father. If your father were to know of me, I would have to leave forever."

"Drinian is a good and faithful friend. He will keep silent." I assured her. "But why should he not tell my father? Do not fear. My father is a good man. He will welcome you and I am sure he will come to love you."

"Do _you_ love me, prince Rillian?" The question was unexpected.

"Oh, more that I can express in words!"

She only looked at me thoughtfully. I realized she had probably heard declarations of love before. I took a deep breath. "Will you marry me, my lady? I do not know your name or anything about you, but I love you. You have brought me unspeakable joy and I only wish to do the same for you."

She smiled bitterly. Then she stood and turned away from me. "I am under a terrible enchantment, my prince. Only you and your love can break it. Until it is broken I cannot say yes."

"Then tell me of this great enchantment!" I cried.

"Be cautious, prince," she told me. "Consider carefully what you are undertaking. There is a high price to pay."

For a single moment, I hesitated. Then shame set in. I was a noble knight and an honorable Narnian indeed! Frightened at the first mention of sacrifice!

"Tell me," I pleaded.

"You must love me more than anyone or anything else in Narnia," she said.

I stopped, puzzled. Was _this_ to be the extent of my sacrifice?

"I already do," I said.

"No, you do not understand. You must love me more than your father and mother, more than any duty or obligation, more than Narnia itself, more than right and wrong."

The world began to spin. Thoughts of all the things I knew and loved flashed before my eyes.

"More than Aslan?" I whispered.

"More than Aslan," she said.


	9. We Will Meet Again

**Well, this is the last chapter. It broke my heart to write it. I was really tempted to go against canon and give the story a happy ending...but I didn't.**

* * *

Prince Rillian was asleep.

The Lady of the Green Kirtle sat on the grass gazing at him.

_Making difficult choices is exhausting, isn't it, my prince?_ she thought, mockingly. _But you've chosen well. Sleep._

He was hers now. He had told her that he loved her above all else and she had embraced him, thanking him for being her deliverer. She had promised that she would meet his father. Then she had hurried to begin the spell. She had begun singing a strange and haunting melody and he had been lulled to sleep by the sound of her voice. He would sleep for a long time now.

It had been so easy! She had come, expecting a worthy opponent. She had come, prepared to seduce a man who would be wary and suspicious. And what had she found instead? A boy who was grieving and lonely, longing for someone who would replace the mother he had lost. He had trusted her absolutely. She had barely needed magic.

"Sleep on," she whispered. "When you wake you will remember nothing. And then we will travel to my lands where I will be yours and you will be mine."

A sudden change in the air forced her to suddenly sit upright. A sudden presence…

No! It couldn't be Him! He had no place here!

It was Aslan. She knew it even before she saw Him and she had to strive to hide the fear that she felt each time He was near. There was nothing to fear, she told herself. The boy was hers, after all.

Aslan ignored her. He slowly walked closer and closer to the fountain until He was close enough to see His own reflection. Then He lowered his head and drank. The act infuriated her. He was demonstrating that this was His land, His forest, and that she was here only because He allowed it! That she wasn't even worth a glance!

"Hello, oh mighty one," she said, mockingly.

Aslan looked up at her. He said nothing. Then He slowly, deliberately, took a few steps until He was looking into Rillian's face. The love in His gaze astonished her. She could not comprehend it. How could He love _them_, these humans who were so weak and worthless?

"You can look all you want," she said, with a false sweetness. "Just don't touch what doesn't belong to you."

And then she said what she knew would hurt Him the most. "He chose me, you know. Over you."

Aslan spoke. "Yes," he said. Not angrily, not tearfully. He just said it.

Prince Rillian stirred and moaned.

Aslan spoke again. "Yes. He chose you. He may yet choose differently."

"No fear of that," she said, laughing. "His choices will be limited from now on. When he wakes, he won't remember you. He cannot choose what is outside of his understanding."

"I have given him the right to choose," Aslan said. "And what I have given, you cannot take away."

Once again, reminding her of His superiority!

"I didn't have to take it away!" she said. "He gave up the right to choose, when he chose me! He chose to give up his right to choose!" she said, laughing at the paradoxical nature of it.

Aslan shook His head and His golden mane rippled. "He does not have that power any more than you do."

Then He leaned over and breathed in Rillian's face. And something that had been dead in Rilian's face, suddenly came alive. She realized that some small part of Rillian did not belong to her, had not surrendered.

"You cannot reverse the spell!" she screamed. "He is mine!"

Aslan spoke. "He has chosen you. But for one hour each night, he will be free to choose otherwise. He will remember who he is and all that he has been taught. For one hour each night, his mind will be free from your control." He turned and looked into Rillian's face once more. "Good-bye, Prince of Narnia. We will meet again."

Then He was gone.

But his words echoed in the wind.

_We will meet again._


End file.
